


Dared to fly there

by Clara_Jimmy



Series: Starilion [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Elves In Space, First Age, Thangorodrim, tagged mature because it is what it is, thangorodrim rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25379545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Jimmy/pseuds/Clara_Jimmy
Summary: Fingon decided to go alone, on a possible suicide mission, to see if he could find his cousin.
Series: Starilion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837912
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Dared to fly there

It wasn’t that close, but he though the planet appeared dreadfully too quickly and then grew bigger and bigger in front of his eyes. Angband was a giant and dark grey and black clouds obscured the whole surface. The ship´s cloaking function didn’t work anymore and Fingon didn’t know if or when the enemy would notice him, but he didn’t care that much. He would get onto the surface and then search, and nothing could really stop him. He flew into the lower levels, getting through cold mist and clouds, descending in nearly absolute darkness. He scanned the location. Three huge cooling towers rose from the ground in the north, steam rising form them constantly. And Fingon headed that way. He had decided to try to enter the station from there rather than through the main gate.

The old small ship landed and he checked the air outside. It was very cold and apparently breathable, although the computer was warning him that it contained some dangerous particles, showing plutonium, mercury, chromium and even some unknown ones on the list. It should not be risked, but he guessed he would probably survive. If only his suit was brand new.

“Just last a tiny bit more,” he spoke to the ship, “we´re going to have to get Maedhros out of here.” He wondered if the old thing would survive the way back, he was lucky he had even gotten this far. Fingon checked his helmet, turned off the ship´s computer and went outside. Looking around, he could see no sign of life anywhere and began to walk briskly.

Maedhros, how am I ever going to find you in this place, he asked himself. Where are you? Somewhere deep underground no doubt, locked in a cell or being tortured in one of those cruel experiments. He had to find a way down, he thought. He spent hours walking around the structure and climbing where he could and searching for any place of weakness. The light screen showed no doors, only several cracks in the cooling tower walls, but they lead nowhere.

After a long time Fingon began to feel desperate. This planet was a nightmare, almost as horrible as the Helcaraxë. It was cold, dead and made him feel powerless. He hated every second here.

Maybe to give himself some comfort he started to hum. And the hum turned into a song, slow happy melody, the one Argon used to tease him with ages ago. Now it made him smile a little. This place shouldn’t exist, but they should withstand it and fight it however they could. All of their suffering, endurance, strength and hopes were their motivation. The elves had so much to use in this battle. Fingon turned the intercom on broadcast and started to sing with more power. He would go through the main gate, find Maedhros and kick Morgoth´s fucking face in.

But as he continued, Fingon suddenly heard something. And stopped. Hearing it again, goose bumps ran over his skin. No way. An elven voice? The computer picked up a faint voice that sung the same song. And it wasn’t an echo. Fingon looked around frantically and raised his head and the light screen showed him something up there, right on the edge of the cooling tower. And his heart froze and fell. He stood rooted to the ground, staring up at what he now knew was a person. And worse, it was Maedhros. He was right there, right there on the edge. The computer didn’t recognize him, but he did.

“Maedhros!” he shouted, turning the volume of his helmet up as much as possible, “Maedhros! I´m here! It´s Fingon!” And his friend´s voice grew a little louder, and it was hoarse, but it was true.

Fingon desperately looked around for any ledge or crack in the concrete and climbed higher, but soon the surface was too smooth and steep to go on. The antigravity function of his suit had stopped working years ago.

“Fuck! Damn it!” he yelled. He zoomed to look at Maedhros and saw how tormented and ruined his body was and noticed the power field around his right hand. How could he free him? How could he get to him? He would have to leave and come back in his ship, Fingon decided.

“Maedhros!” he called, “I´m going to get my ship! I don’t want to leave, but I have to!” He waited for an answer.

“Fingon,” Maedhros spoke and the intercom picked up the weak voice, “please. Just. Please end it now...”

“What…?”

“End it. Please. Just kill me.”

“What?! No, Mae- no, I´m going to get the ship, just wait!” He wanted Fingon to kill him...? He looked at Maedhros again. He must have gone through horrible torture and Fingon waned to cry.

“No… don’t go, please. If you´ve ever… just do this for me.”

“I…,” he mumbled weakly, “I…”

“Kill me!” his voice grew louder and Fingon startled, “kill me! Now, please!” It was making his ears hurt. Maedhros persisted in shouting and after a long time Fingon felt his heart break. Alright. If this is what he wanted. He had no right to decline. After what they did to Maedhros. Did Fingon know any better? His hand slowly crept to the holster and his laser gun.

“Fingon!” Maedhros called again and Fingon looked at his face. He slowly raised the gun. The least he could do for Maedhros was to fulfil his last wish. Not torment him further. Fingon checked the power levels he knew he had a few shots left. So he took a deep breath of the polluted air and aimed.

Then the wind picked up suddenly with great force, and when he looked up, his eyes widened in disbelief. It was one of the Eagles. An Eagle Class Fighter, right above them, its huge wings opening and shining light blue from within. Wordlessly, Fingon watched it descend and fly towards him and then, to even more shock, the cockpit started to open, the window was sliding down. Fingon didn’t hesitate and clambered inside. He had never even heard of anyone being inside one of these ships, he had been told they were a high class mecha, but he would take chance now.

“Can you take me to him?” he asked and the giant metal bird obeyed, getting him as close to Maedhros as he could. Fingon leaned out of the window.

“Maedhros,” he spoke, finally looking at him properly. He almost couldn’t recognize him; he had changed so much he almost didn’t seem alive or elvish. Fingon felt tears roll down his cheeks.

“I´m here, I´m going to get you down,” he mumbled.

“Fingon, why are you here?” Maedhros asked faintly. His eyes were dim.

“To rescue you,” he replied and focused on the power field encasing Maedhros´s hand. He scanned the surface of the wall, looked everywhere, but his computer couldn’t find the operating system that kept Maedhros on the wall. It was obviously coming from inside of the building. He shot his laser gun a few times around it. The concrete crumbled, but that was it. Quickly, he returned to the Eagle and started to search for something useful. The control desk was incomprehensible; a Valarin system. But in the space behind the cockpit there was a small technical station. How could he destroy the power field? How could he free Maedhros? Fingon rummaged through the strange tools, tried to find out how they worked, and then he got the best and worst idea in his life, possibly.

He grabbed the item and walked back and leaned out of the window again and Maedhros looked him in the eyes.

“Fingon,” he said, “please. Please end it.” Fingon blinked to get rid of the tears.

“No, I won´t,” he said firmly, “I´m sorry, but I can´t, not now.”

“Kill me, please.”

“I figured out a way to free you, Maedhros,” he said and took a shaky deep breath, “it´s terrible, but I hope you will forgive me.” He leaned even further out and seized Maedhros under one arm.

“Hold onto me,” he said and raised the strange laser knife towards his friend´s wrist. It cut through the skin and bone smoothly as Maedhros screamed in agony. Fingon caught him. He weighed almost nothing and so he dragged him easily inside of the ship. Right away the window slid up and the bird took off, leaving the cooling towers behind quickly.

“Can you take us back? Please,” he said desperately, “planet Mithrim.” He watched in awe as a map showed up on the light screen, with a track marked in white.

“Thank you,” Fingon called to the ship, as he carried Maedhros further inside. He laid him in what he thought was the medical capsule and covered him with a foil blanket. Then he took off his helmet; is hair stayed plastered on his skin with sweat.

“We´re going home, Maedhros,” he said gently, tugging the blanket in, “we´ll be there soon.”


End file.
